


Guessing Which Way the Wind Blows

by HeroMaggie



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 03:33:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2052039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian teases Therese Trevelyan about the men in the practice yard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guessing Which Way the Wind Blows

Therese Trevelyan was lost in thought, staring blankly out the tall, wide window that overlooked the practice yard. Sipping a cup of hot tea, her mind worried over the inquisition, her goals, the state of her army, and the look Vivienne had shot her when she had come inside. Apparently, she had managed to get mud on her robes. It had been easier to nip by the kitchen for a cup of tea and hide than deal with the problems of looking the part of a leader. One day she'd get this leader schtick down, would stop looking around for a First Enchanter or Knight Commander before she made a decision. Until then, she'd ignore muddy robes in favor of making decisions.

 

She was so lost in thought that she didn't even hear Dorian until he cleared his throat. She swallowed the small sound of exasperation and schooling her face into a blank mask, turned to the smiling man. “May I help you, Magister Pavus?”

“Please Inquisitor, it's just Dorian. Magister Pavus is my father. I am simply Dorian.” He bowed with a flourish, his eyes twinkling. “Just a simple mage.”

Therese snorted lightly. “Then please, just Therese. No need to stand on ceremony. At least not unless Vivienne is around. Then I would recommend watching your p's and q's.”

“And any mud you might be near? Hmm?” Dorian wrinkled his nose a bit at the splotches of mud dotting Therese's robe. She sighed.

“Did you need something, Dorian?” She turned back to the window, her eyes glazing over again as her thoughts started to crowd in.

“I saw you standing so still and asked myself, what must be out this window that has so captivated our leader? But seeing what you are looking at now, well, I must say I approve of your window-watching past times.”

Therese blinked at his words and finally focused on the practice yard below. It was currently in use and the view was, as Dorian had pointed out, impressive.”

“Now, I wonder which of these fine specimens has caught our leader's eye, hmm?” Dorian had moved closer, was smoothing his mustache as he gazed below. “Perhaps the Qunari? He is powerfully built, no? All that rippling muscle and violent potential wrapped up in smirks and bad humor.” Therese watched Iron Bull bend and stand, hefting a monstrous two-handed sword with ease. His shoulder muscles bunched and then smoothed as he swung the sword over his shoulder and sauntered across the open ground to a practice dummy. She kept her face neutral, took a slow sip of tea, and stayed quiet.

Dorian moved closer, turning slightly to take in the field. “Or perhaps you prefer experience over all that brawn? Not that Blackwall is, by any means, a puny specimen. A bit hairy for me, but maybe you like that sort of thing?” His eyebrow arched as he watched her face. Her eyes had latched on to the hirsute man steadily attacking a practice dummy with his own two-handed sword. He was shirtless, his chest covered with a dense mat of dark hair that narrowed to a line that disappeared into his trousers. She watched him swing the sword steadily, a sheen of sweat glistening over his arms and back. Refusing to make any comments, she took another slow sip of her tea.

Dorian had to admire her stoicism in the face of his teasing. Still, he couldn't help but move even closer, his breath feathering over her ear as he turned her face to the last man in the yard. “Ah. You prefer the quiet, stoic types then? Like our templar friend down there? All self-restraint and focus. You know that just hides a deep well of passion, yes? It doesn't hurt that he's so very pretty, even with the scars. So contained. Maybe you were standing here wondering how best to...unravel his control?” Therese's eyes took in Cullen. He carried a shield and sword and was methodically moving through stances. His shirt clung to his back and emphasized his wide shoulders and narrow hips. She watched him move, graceful and commanding, and took another slow swallow of tea.

Dorian made a small moue discontent at her lack of expression. He moved away from her, putting an acceptable distance between the two of them, and returned to watching the man practice. She took another sip and smiled slightly at his pout.

About that time, Sera entered the yard. She strode across the yard with energy, her choppy hair fluttering in the light breeze. Therese watched her stop and punch Iron Bull in the arm, the two of them engaging in a rapid discussion that involved a lot of hand movement and poking. She swung her bow off her back and lighting fast, shot three arrows into Iron Bull's practice dummy. The dummy shivered and fell backwards. Iron Bull threw his head back and laughed, smacking Sera on the back hard enough for her to fall forward. She righted herself with a grin.

Therese's lips twitched and for the first time since Dorian had come over, her face betrayed something other than polite disinterest. Dorian's eyes lit up. “Ah-hah!” he crowed in delight. She shook her head at his teasing grin. “I see...so it's our dear Sera that draws your attention?”

Therese was saved from answering by Cassandra bursting into the room. “There you are. I've been looking all over for you. I have new reports and a scout has returned with a rift sighting. I need you now, you can talk to Dorian later.” Cassandra shot the man a narrowed-eyed look and took Therese's arm. Therese turned to Dorian and smiled.

“Thank you for the company, Dorian. It was...a pleasant diversion.”

She left him at the window, following Cassandra from the room with a quick step. When they had gotten suitably far away, Cassandra turned to her.

“Where you watching the men practice again or deep in thought?”

“Bit of both.”

“And?”

Therese's lips curved up. “I have to say, it was a good thing you dragged me away when you did. Dorian has a way with words and I don't think I could have kept my composure for much longer. Of course, now he thinks I am lusting after Sera.”

Cassandra laughed at that. “Oh? Then Dorian hasn't guessed which way the wind blows?”

“Maker no. And if you even breathe a word of it I'll tell Varric about your collection of his more risque novels. No....I...it's nobody's business but my own. And his. Dorian can go gossip with Varric. And how do you know anyway?”

Cassandra patted Therese's back. “Well, it's not hard to guess when he's always in the practice yard when you decide to get contemplative.” The women shared a grin and then went to go listen to the scout. Dorian leaned against the back wall and smiled. He had been right, one of the men...now to narrow down which one...


End file.
